Convergence
by yllimilly
Summary: PACIFIC RIM AU. 2046. Despite the reopening of the Breach, and the regular Kaiju rampages, the world has become liveable again... so long as one is willing to endure a near total erosion of individual liberties. Yuugi Mutou is drafted by the Kaiju Defense Program to be a Jaeger pilot... despite any kind of training or fighting ability. Is he the key to humankind's salvation?


AN: Yes, this is a Pacific Rim AU. A friend suggested it, and immediately loved the idea; the parallels are plentiful and I felt like venturing away from angst and drama. Unfortunately, I didn't make it to the end in time for the contest; I'd rather settle for the first half of the story now, rather than write a rushed ending. I'd rather you know ahead of time so that you don't feel cheated.

PACIFIC RIM 101. For those who haven't watched the movie, it involves giant robots fighting giant (alien, dinosaur-ish) monsters. The novelty is that two humans are needed to pilot one robot, so that they can share the neural overload that comes with melding one's mind with the complex machine. The process in which two human brains are connected to one another is called the Drift. The Breach is a hole in the Pacific ocean from which the Kaiju emerge.

Written for contest. Prompt: Yami no Yuugi x Rishid Ishtar.

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**Convergence**

.

2046. The Breach opened thirty three years ago, releasing an agonizingly slow apocalypse. The Kaiju, a horde of mysterious monsters believed to come from outer space, terrorized, one at a time, Earth and its inhabitants. After a series of moderately successful attempts at holding the menace off the world's major coastal cities, the Breach was closed. Temporarily.

2046. Despite the reopening of the Breach, and the regular Kaiju rampages, the world has become liveable again... so long as one is willing to endure a near total erosion of individual liberties. The Kaiju Defence Program, KDP for short, supersedes all and any jurisdiction, imposing periodic aptitude testing on the planet's inhabitants so that their 'talents' could be put to 'good use' with no possible recourse. It's not like the revised school curriculum made room for creative career choices; nearly everything but math, science and languages have been wiped out. Subjects like literature, music or history can only be afforded by children whose families are wealthy enough to hire private tutors.

The world outside the cities has become inhabitable, making escapes from the civilized world unlikely. Deserters and conscientious objectors are sent not to jail, but to clean-up duty on the Pacific shores. Prolonged exposure to the toxic spills from Kaiju carcasses cause birth defects to the offspring of exposed mothers, and kill most healthy adults within two years. And that's the official story; rumours have it that the KDP runs human experiments in top secret laboratories. And those aren't necessarily reserved for the convicts. Anyone with an interesting profile can fall in an immoral scientist's eye. And even them are merely following orders, under increasing pressure to yield results.

An unlucky recruit will be assigned by the KDP to work as labor on one of the perpetually destroyed coastal walls which protect the coastal and inland cities from the seaborne invasions. A luckier recruit will put their brains to work in a lab, as a technician, scientist or engineer. The luckiest of all will be assigned to the most noble of duties: to pilot the Jaegers, mankind's faltering hopes against the invaders.

.

The waiting room of the KDP regional office is crowded and smells of sweat and fear. Leaky pipes are gnawing away at the moldy concrete. The artificial lights blink, falter - they look like they could be giving out at any time. The whole district of Domino East is being tested today. Those who are undergoing their final yearly round of testing - who will be assigned a position - sport bleary faces, blotched if not downright teary eyes. Couples are holding hands in silence; a handful of babies are crying at the top of their lungs. Yuugi Mutou waits for his turn, nervously toying with his most recent success: the completion of a difficult puzzle his Grandpa gave him for his fifteenth birthday. Over a year ago.

"I'm back, Yuugi," a girl says as she sits down in the broken chair next to him and rings an arm around his shoulders.

"Anzu! Are you okay?"

Anzu Mazaki tries to smile in vain. She is coming back from her own testing session, yet acts as if nothing special happened. Her scalp is shaved in places and she hasn't even bothered removing the stickers from where the electrodes were affixed. Personality testing. IQ testing. Mental and emotional resilience. Physical endurance. Reflexes. Pain tolerance. "Yes. It went by really quickly. They haven'T told me where they were going to assign me yet, or to what."

"It'll be fine, Anzu, you'll-" Hesitantly, Yuugi puts both arms around her. He doesn't have the heart to say it, that they will leave her alone so that she can fulfill her long time dream of becoming a dancer. With her stamina and fit body, she'll probably be assigned to the frontlines infantry, sent to the front to serve as barely more than cannon fodder to slow down the Kaijus a minute or two before the Jaegers can come in.

Anzu takes a deep breath, steadies her shoulders and grabs Yuugi's pyramid puzzle. "You finished it!" She manages to sound genuinely happy. "You've been working on it for so long. I'm sure it'll bring you luck," she says.

Yuugi opens his mouth to mumble a half-hearted thanks, but it is drowned by the sound of his very name, yelled by a KDP attendant. Yuugi can not move, only stare into Anzu's eyes, which are mirroring his panic.

"Mutou! Yuugi Mutou!" The voice is getting impatient. Yuugi holds unto Anzu's hands as if for dear life, and feels a warmth against his chest before everything becomes black.

.

The office reserved for the Kaiba Corporation CEO has a window. This once was considered a luxury, a mark of prestige. Seto Kaiba thinks otherwise.

The skyline of Domino City, the last standing metropolis of the Pacific coastline, has more ruins than houses and businesses altogether. The mountain range behind them, sometimes visible behind the thick layer of smog, stands like a defaced memorial. Each blue stained dent, each abandoned Jaeger limb or abandoned Kaiju carcass reminds the population that there might not be a future out here, or anywhere else, for their children.

Seto Kaiba was told that Domino City once was a haven of culture and leisure, that children of all ages played freely. That Kaiba Corporation used to manufacture games, before turning into an armament manufacturer when the economy dictated it. Domino City, now rampant with crime and corruption, is no beauty to look at. And yet, the young CEO keeps staring, because it's less depressing than going back to the chair and desk that his father once sat in.

"Mister Kaiba?"

A young woman with blonde hair is standing by the doorframe.

"Hawkins…" He sighs, his eyes still cast on the Domino skyline. "I'm not in the mood for your time travel delusions."

"That's not it, Sir."

Kaiba turns around. His eyes fall on the reports in her hands. Obnoxious as she might be, Rebecca Hawkins is one of his most competent research scientists. He gestures for her to come closer. She eagerly complies.

"It's a perfect match," she explains, almost breathless. "One hundred percent compatibility. One of them is here in Domino," she adds triumphantly, pointing to the file named MUTOU - ATYPICAL II.

Seto Kaiba's eyes. "Another atypical? Why does he need to be paired with another pilot?" He flips through the file, mentally extracting patterns from the haze of graphs and tables. "If this report accurate, Mutou consistently yielded substandard performances in all his screenings except this one. Why is that?"

"It is possible. There are documented cases or radical changes in personality in fit candidates, changes which aren't necessarily tied to mental illness." She watches her superior as he silently browses the second candidate's file, then the theoretical compatibility simulation file reports. Her very own, custom made algorithm.

"I can see the first candidate's path here," he points at the sinuous curve, "but not the second candidate's."

"That's - that's exactly it, Mister Kaiba. Perfect compatibility. Their curves are overlapping." She sits up, holding her head high. "The first documented case," she adds proudly.

Two years ago, Kaiba would have dismissed her, and she would be good for shore scrubbing duty. But Hawkins did manage to find another first documented case: the only known, to date, solo Jaeger pilot. Kaiba had trusted her, and him, and the boy showed that he could indeed ride, showing even fewer signs of post-battle neural damage than some of the duo pilots.

"Can you get him here?"

"He's already on his way, Sir. He was very compliant with our Requisitions team. As for the second one…" She looks hesitantly at the second file. "Although I doubt the second candidate will be as cooperative."

Seto Kaiba frowns at the title of the second file - ISHTAR - ATYPICAL III. He knows where the rat is hiding - and it's unlikely he will bow to the KDP's authority.

"It looks like I have to take care of this myself."

.

Seto hates casinos. The fact that this one is located in the basement of a decaying dim-sum restaurant doesn't bolster its appeal.

He plays for leisure at first, betting prudently to test the waters. It gets boring quicker than he'd thought, though, and starts betting higher amounts, always aiming for the win. The knowing glances that the henchmen exchange aren't lost on Kaiba. Just as he celebrates his twenty first win, a hand - not a lithe, gold digger hand; a heavy, quit-messing-around type of hand - lands on his shoulder.

"Game over, Kaiba."

The man looks ageless. His scalp is completely bald, perhaps from second degree burns. His face is covered with markings that Seto remembers seeing in one of the countless history books his father had him read as a child. Before Kaiba can say anything, a blindfold is secured on his person. It would have been pointless to come accompanied, for the KC goons would have raised suspicion and mistrust on part of Ishtar's own goons; it is pointless to protest now, as he is told to stand and shoved around towards an unknown destination.

.

The light assaults his eyes when the blindfold is removed. The henchman is comfortably himself in the throne in which Seto would have expected to see Malik Ishtar, regent heir of the Ishtar family, Prince of the Domino underworld. Two young teenagers bring the henchman something that looks like tea.

"What brings you here, Mister Kaiba? You miss the thrill of the Drift? We have everything you need. You only need to ask."

The thrill of the Drift? What is he talking about? "I'd like to speak to him directly, if you don't mind." Seto's jaw tenses.

"What my Master knows, I know."

Seto can only wait. Even though he rightfully rules Domino from the KC Tower, he is not on his own turf. There are no shareholders to woo, no mahogany desk for him to punch.

"You tell me first," the henchman continues, "and I tell him then. If you are worth his time. Seto Kaiba." He spits the name.

Seto knows better than to be offended. "It's an offer he cannot refuse. I promise you his time won't be wasted."

The man seems to be considering Kaiba's words, or rather, to be assessing him as a person. He then stands up and walks into an adjacent room, leaving Kaiba behind.

.

It feels like Yuugi managed to fall asleep just a minute ago when the lights in his one-bed dorm flare up. He refuses to call it a bedroom; the thing is less intimate than a jail cell. His warm reassuring covers disappear pried away from him to make way for the cold, damp air of the bunker that he was told was to become his new home.

"Wakey wakey!" A friendly, cheery male voice resonates in his ears. Yuugi rolls on his back to see the assailant. He can only distinguish a backlit, blonde halo under the neon lights. "Come on, Yuug', let's go get breakfast! You don't mind me calling you Yuug', dontcha?"

"What…" Yuugi croaks, rubbing the sleepiness in his eyes. The bearer of bad wakey news extends his hand. Setting all hesitation aside, Yuugi grabs it.

"I'm Jounouchi Katsuya, but you can call me Jou. I was told to show you everything. Well, everything you need to know. You've only just arrived yesterday, didn't you?"

Yuugi nods tentatively - it's really all been a blur after the testing. He vaguely remembers something about being taken in a helicopter, and passing out again, and somehow coming back to his senses in this room. He assumes it's the shock of having been drafted so suddenly that are responsible for his patchy memory. Oh, and Anzu. His heart twists and aches. He brings a hand to his chest, where the pyramid pendant lies. His only remaining link to home. Jounouchi has been prattling on about routines and schedules while Yuugi was lost in thought.

"... but those are better for wearing under the suit. It gets really chafing in there, you don't wanna wear cotton." Jonouchi has already buried Yugi under a small pile of clean clothing, instructing him on what he should and should not be wearing, and when, and why. The prattling goes on even as Yuugi changes, and through the bathroom door as Yuugi empties his bladder.

The blond's seemingly unspoilable good mood persists to the cafeteria. They sit between two groups of techs, because Jounouchi's usual table - and now, Yuugi's - is full already.

"I was supposed to introduce you to everybody, but we don't have too much time and frankly some of them are crazy chatterboxes, so I'll just point and you'll watch, ya?"

Yuugi chooses to believe that. His stomach guiltily growls at the sight of luminescent green peas and slimy 'meatballs'. Hunger eventually takes over.

Jonouchi first points to a pair of blue haired nerds isolated from the rest of the group, hunched over their individual trays. "That's Raptor and Weevil," he says with his mouth full. "They're the Kaiju scientists, or freaks if you want my opinion. Total freaks," Jounouchi huffs. "And the girl over there, not the one with the thick curls, the other one with the ponytails? That's Rebecca Hawkins. She's the math geek. And you see the guy with the pointy brown hair? That's Tristan Taylor. Your new best friend. I mean, your new best friend outside of the pilot team," Jounouchi winks and pokes Yuugi hard in the shoulder. He knows all about the systems and mechanics."

Which systems? Somehow, Yuugi feels like Jounouchi assumes he knows more than he actually does. No one has told him yet what his role was going to be at the base. Probably to sweep the floor…

"Aaand… who else." Jounouchi purses his lips comically, tapping his chin with his fork. He twists around to look at the tall brown haired man walking briskly between two aisles, then returns to his tray. "That's Seto Kaiba," he says, his voice low and rumbling like clouds before a thunderstorm. "But you already knew him, right?"

"Not… personally."

That sounds hilarious to Joey's ears. "That's a good one. Yeah, I don't think the man would let anyone touch him with a ten foot pole. Okay, who else now." Jounouchi sounds suddenly bored, and in a rush to complete the 'tour'. "Oh, this - the white head - that's Ryou Bakura." The boy managed to find a completely isolated spot despite the cafeteria nearing full capacity. He looks calm, serene maybe. "And that's Mai," he says, pointing to the mystery curly woman before swallowing the last of his breakfast. "Let's go." Jou stands up with no other explanation. "I'll show you the Jaegers. Bet you can't wait to see them up close, huh?"

Yuugi knits his brows in confusion.

The Jaegers are too tall, too gigantic to be true. Dozens of workers are busy drilling, welding, sawing, polishing, assembling the various parts. There are four stations in total. The first one holds a golden, masculine Jaeger with broad shoulders and a warrior-like headdress. The second one is a feminine Jaeger, bald and blue with purple armour. The third one is a red dragon with a black underbelly. The fourth one is a perfectly black dragon.

Jounouchi points the first station. "That's Exodia, but who knows if it'll ever be functional. Kaiba dumped a load of cash into developing a new nuclear reactor for it. At some point he stopped developing it." Indeed, it seemed like no workers were assigned to it.

The blond then points to the second station. "This is Necrofear. She's got the newest technology inside her. Ryou might be the only one that can synchronize with her. It takes one freak to know another, right?"

Yuugi merely nods, failing to see the connection. Perhaps he'll understand later.

"And that's my baby. The Red Eyes Black Dragon." Jounouchi's eyes are shining with pride. "The first one of its kind. Second and oldest Jaeger that's shaped like a Kaiju. One of Kaiba's rare strikes of genius," he adds derisively.

"You really seem to like it," Yuugi risks when he decides that Jounouchi assumes that Yuugi knows more than he actually does.

"Yeah. I spent years over there," Jounouchi points to one of the welders working on its flank, suspended by an arm. "But I'm in the cockpit, now." Without giving Yuugi time to process that bit of information, he continues: "I guess you don't know about Mai, either, eh?"

"She is his guardian angel, but he won't admit it," a third voice timidly says. The boy that Yuugi recognizes to be Ryou Bakura smiles demurely, bowing in greeting to the pair.

"Shit, Bakura, you gotta stop sneaking on people like that. Scares the shit out of people."

"Your reflexes are quite poor, for a Jaeger pilot."

"You're…" Yuugi's jaw drops. "Jounouchi-kun, Ryou-kun… You two are… Pilots? Real pilots?"

Jounouchi startles, his face harbours something like hurt. Then he merely stares at Yuugi in amazement. "You didn't know? Aw man… I thought all the kids watched TV these days."

"Not in our household," Yuugi says, and it's half the truth. With their prohibitive prices, the high costs of living, and Grandpa's heart condition, television just wasn't a top priority for the Mutou family. Plus, the Jaeger pilots were replaced so regularly… There was simply no way to keep up with their names.

"Well, I can guarantee you that being up there is a billion times better than watching TV."

"What do you mean, Jounouchi-kun?"

Ryou looks at Yuugi impassibly, while Jounouchi bursts laughing. "You really weren't told anything, weren't you?"

Yuugi frowns, looks down at the puzzle, cradles it. He looks up at Jounouchi for explanations (he is muttering something about bureaucracy), then at Ryou (whose eyes are glued to the pendant). "Well… no," he admits.

Ryou looks him in the eye intently. His features have suddenly grown darker. "You'll be a fine pilot, Yuugi. I can tell you have a special gift."

"Hey! I was going to say that! Way to always ruin everything, Bakura. Worst timing ever," Jounouchi mutters under his breath. "Well, I don't know what it is yet, but you must have something amazing in there," Jounouchi tells Yuugi, while tapping a finger at the boy's forehead. "Or in here," he adds more pensively, tapping Yuugi's ribcage, right where his drumming heart is. "Look over there, kiddo," Jounouchi murmurs as he points to the dragon shaped, two-jawed red robot. "Don't get your hopes up, though. Your co-pilot hasn't arrived yet. Meet Slifer, Ranger Mutou."

Yuugi's heart stops.

.

Seto Kaiba follows the henchman into the room. The scent of incense is overpowering. On a sea of cushions lies Malik Ishtar, only half-conscious and not quite looking like he sits at the top of the black market pyramid of Domino City. Malik is surrounded by a half dozen of gorgeous men and women, none of them quite fully conscious. Everyone, including Malik, is wearing a Drift helmet. On Malik's chest lies a stylized, golden rod, to which every helmet seems connected. That son of a bitch is completely high on a Group Drift, Kaiba thinks. This is bad. Either the Ishtars are being really trusting, or he simply won't see the light of day ever again. On the other hand, the scientist in Kaiba is completely thrilled. He's never heard of anyone else capable of withstanding the neural load of a half-dozen people.

Malik peels the helmet off his head, clearly upset at the interruption. "What do you want, Blue Eyes?"

Seto ignores what sounds like a slur in Malik's filthy mouth. "Malik Ishtar," he calls out. "You've been drafted."

The lithe figure vaguely looks in Kaiba's direction, his bleary eyes trying to focus. He hitches himself up on one elbow, but soon lets himself fall on some nondescript torso conveniently lying nearby. "Rishid," he calls out almost plaintively, "Water."

The henchman - Rishid - rushes to execute the young prince's wish. He hands him a cup that Malik can barely even hold with his unsteady fingers. Kaiba has the decency to look away as the servant takes holds of the cup and brings it directly to his master's lips.

"Kaiba," he finally says, purposefully ignoring, or completely oblivious to, the various ministrations of the bald man who appears to be his right hand man. "You must be in pretty deep shit if you came to seek me out on your own." His eyes are still out of focus and his neck muscles, weak. Rishid has to hold him up so that he can sit and look at his guest eye to eye.

The CEO keeps his gaze and voice even. "Then we have something in common."

"Watch your words," the henchman hisses.

Malik goes on, as if his servant wasn't there at all. "Need a bailout?" He smiles derisively, revealing a row of hideously gold teeth. "Or else… You want some of this, but are too shy to ask?" He holds his own Drift helmet in his hands.

Seto Kaiba's breath hitches. No one can make me drift ever again. "There's something I want you to see." Or rather, I'd like to see for myself just how compatible you actually are with the dwarf that Hawkins managed to find in the slums of Domino East. What if Malik's brain is fried up beyond repair from all the recreational drifting he has been doing? What if the nine month-old results that Hawkins pulled up from the national database of mandatory neural testing are false?

"Rishid," Malik whines with no pride whatsoever. "My head hurts. I want wine." Malik lets his head fall back and Rishid catches it in time, cradling it with one hand while he serves more of the water to his master with the other. The prince pushes the cup away with an uncoordinated hand. He reaches for the jug and takes a mouthful. Some of the water drizzles down his chin. "Oh, Kaiba… I can assure you, there's nothing I haven't seen already, mate," he says, startling Seto by the hints of trust and confidence in his tone. "Unless… you have a new toy for me? A big kind of toy, if you know what I mean?"

Seated next to Malik, Rishid is giving Kaiba a hard, unreadable stare.

"You're starting today," Kaiba deadpans, returning Rishid's gaze.

.

Yuugi is leaning on the ramp of the mezzanine, looking absent-mindedly at the blue and purple mecha standing in front of him. The ambient light and noise are overwhelming. He still has no idea why he to be where to do what, because orders are being thrown at him from a dozen different over-rushed and under-slept people who don't look like they're about to take a break to answer his hundred questions.

You must have something amazing. Jounouchi's voice has been resonating in Yuugi's head since they parted ways in order to prepare for the simulations. He wants to believe it, but it somehow just cannot be true. He has always been always shorter, weaker, less coordinated than his peers. He wasn't particularly smart, or skilled at something… except if you counted games, maybe, but that was a totally useless skill in a dying world. And even then, he hadn't yet discovered and mastered all the games there were in the world.

He turns around and opens his mouth to finally let it all out and yell: 'I'm not the one you're looking for,' only to be drowned in the thundering sound of the Jaeger engine starting up. Yuugi startles. Necrofear's eyes light up; its armour shifts and glides along its mechanized limbs. Chills run all over the boy's body. He looks around, searching for a familiar face.

Jounouchi, all decked up in green and yellow armour and looking very much like he can bring a thousand tons of metal to life, waves a friendly hand his way. "Hey Yug'! This dumbass here is Tristan, the good for nothing I told you about earlier." He grabs Tristan in a headlock.

"Hey man, not with your suit on! Frikkin' hurts, man," he reproaches as the hold is released. He pats his hair and bow tie back into place. "Nice to meetcha, Yuugi." Jounouchi's childish grin seems contagious, because it has somehow spread to both Tristan and Yuugi's face. "I'm gonna help you suit up in a minute, and then you're going to meet your co-pilot. Enjoy the view while you can, Yuugi"

Yuugi's eyes turn back to Necrofear. "So who is piloting her? I remember you telling me about Bakura, but..."

"There's no other pilot," Tristan explains. "Bakura is one of a kind."

"A freakish kind," Jou mutters under his breath.

"Come on, man," Tristan reproaches. "He's always had your back in battle, hasn't he?"

Jounouchi's eyes are obstinately glued to the monstruous Jaeger before him, as if he wanted to stare it down. "Still. I don't trust him. There's just something off about this guy." He crosses his arms defensively.

"Not everybody is an extraverted airhead like you," Honda teases. Yuugi opens his mouth to ask about Ryou Bakura. A tall woman, decked in a feminized version of the green and yellow body armour Jounouchi is wearing cuts him short just by the sheer aura she radiates.

"Well, I've got a date, Yuug'. Wish me luck!" Jounouchi winks, and like that, he and the woman - Mai? - are off to the head deck. Tristan has already returned to his monitors.

Yuugi watches him waste away into the crowd. He hasn't even noticed that Necrofear's engines have stopped running. Hasn't noticed, either, the lanky, unimpressed young man leaning on the ramp.

"Quite a show, huh?"

Yuugi startles. "Oh, um, yes. I've never seen them from up close. My family lived next to a bunker, so we were always in early."

"Ah, I see." The man's gear stands out from the rest of the crowd. A lavender tank top, unkempt bronze hair, fiery purple eyes, enough khol to drown a small fly, and more golden jewelry.

"I like your uniform," Yuugi risks timidly. Complimenting people on their clothing was a good way to make friends, right? Right.

To Yuugi's surprise, the man bursts out laughing. "I like your sense of humour, kid. I can tell we're going to get along." Somehow, he doesn't seem to mean those words. Or maybe it is the man's slight accent that makes his intentions difficult to interpret. "I like your pendant, by the way. Where did you get it from?" His fingers are already brushing against the warm, smooth surface of the toy. Yuugi's breathing resumes only when the contact ceases.

"Oh, from my Grandfather. He brought it back from Egypt…"

Malik's eyes flare with interest.

Yuugi stops, feeling like he's saying too much. "My name is Yuugi." He readies himself for the customary handshake.

The man seems to consider him before grasping his hand. "I'm Malik."

Tristan is back, a bit out of breath. "Oh I see you two are acquainted already. Great, that'll save us a bit of time."

Yuugi looks at Malik quizzically. Are we some kind of team?

"We could stay here and watch Red Eyes a little bit," Tristan prattles on, "but I really want you to be well prepared. For your first time. We're already behind schedule," he adds nervously.

"My… My first time?" Is he really going to jump into one of those? Just last week he remembers scraping his chin on the badminton court. He pales, hoping that the glowing blue light of the holographic monitors around them is hiding the change in complexion. I'm going to be more of a menace than a hero if they put me in charge of a whole nuclear reactor.

Then Tristan blushes. "I, uh, I didn't mean to make it sound like that," he adds stupidly, misunderstanding Yuugi's reaction. "Anyway, uh, let's get you geared up."

.

Yuugi takes a tentative step forward in his brand new suit. So far so good. He's managed not to hurt anybody by accident. The warped reflection he sees in the helmet Tristan is holding looks pretty cool, all black shining on purple. But there's no time to linger on; the sooner the real-time simulation is done, the sooner the higher ups will know if Yuugi and Malik really are fitted to pilot Slifer together, and the sooner they'll be able to find replacements, if necessary. 'Not to put any pressure on you or anything, but the next Kaiju is predicted to emerge tomorrow, and it's a Category Six.' How was that supposed not to put any additional pressure on Yuugi?

Tristan drags a helmet-less Yuugi through the corridors that will lead to the cockpit as he drowns him with information, guidance and advice related to the Drift. Yuugi is left with more questions than answers.

"Remember," Tristan says, giving him one last shoulder pat before going to his knees, "when you drift you feel like not only you're into someone's mind, you feel like you are them. It's just a matter of remembering that - you are not them. Good luck." Tristan stands up and leaves Yuugi, who realizes his feet are trapped in the mechanical contraption of the Jaeger.

This is it.

"So you're new to the drift, huh, kid?" Malik seems too relaxed and amused for his own good. Who is this guy? He looks more like an exotic dancer than a fighter.

"Yuugi, Malik, can you hear me?" Tristan's voice is buzzing from inside the helmet.

"Yes," they reply in unison.

"We're going to initiate the Neural Handshake. Remember, this is just a test, you're not going for battle. Try not to bring anything into the Drift and it'll make things easier for everybody, alright?" To my count, five, four, three..."

Yuugi feels a cold chill wash all over him. Not to bring anything? What does that mean? And what was the important thing that Tristan had said before?

Too late, the insides of his brain become impossibly itchy, and then - then everything quiets.

The experience of the Drift is nothing to sneer at. It's as if though Yuugi is seeing himself relive his childhood on fast forward, except that all the bliss and heartache blend into one. He sees himself grow into a timid, lonely teenager who is unexpectedly drafted by the KDP to become a Jaeger pilot. He sees Tristan strapping him into the Jaeger, wishing him luck, leaving, then counting backwards five, four, three, two, one, and then everything is white.

Yuugi's whole body is vibrating with dizziness.

Is it over?

Is the Drift over?

Yuugi hears a voice. It's a low, rich, boisterous voice speaking a language Yuugi does not understand. From the pure whiteness a black silhouette emerges - a taller version of himself with an eye glowing on his forehead.

Who are you?

The voice resumes what Yuugi realizes sounds like a mantra. It's like the silhouette wants him to understand something, repeating it over and over again. Yuugi feels a familiar warmth inside his chest. He lunges forward, only to be knocked back by the silhouette. Yuugi falls for what feels like forever, then all light and sound disappear.

Yuugi feels dizzy and falls to his feet.

The stone floor is cold, dusty, damp under his naked knees.

Where am I?

Closer and closer to the exit, his mind answers. Rishid said he would wait for me. He said he would make way for me. He is walking slowly, careful not to wake Father. Or anyone else. His fingers are tracing the bricks, as if by muscle memory. So close. So close to the exterior. Whimpering. Rishid? Moaning. Pain. They caught him.

As if in a dream, the scene shifts. Yuugi is sitting on a chair. The room is lit by candle flame. Father is going to whip Rishid. Father is going to make me watch. The price of insubordination. One strike on Rishid's back. Rishid does not cry out. Brother. I would take your place any day. Two strikes. Three strikes. Blood leaks out of Rishid's back. Yuugi faints.

And awakens.

The stone altar is cold, dusty, damp under his chest.

Where am I?

This is the day I become a true Ishtar, his mind answers. He feels a sudden urge of adrenaline when he realizes his hands are tied, so are his arms, his hips, his ankles. His father is above him. Rishid is there, too, against his will, he holds Yuugi down by his shoulders and looks down, a single tear streaming down and holding on to his chin. Rishid looks to an indistinct spot above Yuugi's back and then back at Yuugi with apologetic eyes, and then a searing pain comes down on Yuugi, he feel like he is being split open by the knife.

Yuugi writhes and screams in agony until he runs out of air.

It's only once the Drift breaks that Yuugi realizes he is sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. He faints as the helmet is taken off his head.

.

They are used to this. It cannot be avoided; even though it should, not every mission can be a success. There are too many variables to take into account to expect things to go smoothly and according to plan, all the time. If only Seto Kaiba could see things their way… Jounouchi, Mai, Ryou and Rebecca nonetheless stand at attention, ready to wait until the storm passes.

"A failure," Kaiba tells nobody in particular. He walks around in aimless circles. "Ishtar's head is full of white noise and junk! He's no better than a random junkie picked up off the street. He probably gets off it."

"With all due respect, Sir," Rebecca starts firmly, earning herself the glare of her superior, "if he hasn't Drifted with a machine before, then Malik Ishtar is a natural. He aligned perfectly with Slifer. Sir."

"Maybe he's got a special connection with his Jaeger," Jounouchi muses. He looks at Mai. "Like you had with Harpy Lady."

Mai's eyes drop to her feet.

"I don't even know why I let you talk me into trying Mutou. The kid looks like he can't set one foot in front of the other," Seto snarls.

Rebecca pauses in acknowledgement. It had taken not one person, but a little handful of people to bring Yuugi back to reality. "His results nonetheless show perfect alignment with his teammate. Pure empathy," she explains.

"I am familiar with the word empathy, Doctor Hawkins."

The Research Scientist shrinks back on herself.

"We've lost track of our objective," Kaiba resumes, more calmly. "The goal isn't to find Drift-compatible candidates for the sake of having people Drift together. The goal is to find Drift-compatible pilots who can destroy the Kaiju!"

"But his profile showed promise," Hawkins struggles. "Atypicals can and have become extraordinary forces." She clenches her jaw, well aware that she was not invited to speak up again.

"Maybe they are a miracle that cannot be duplicated. An act of God," Kaiba uncharacteristically muses.

All subordinates keep their gaze focussed on their superior, but their thoughts are on Ryou, who has managed not to attract any attention on himself the whole duration of the meeting.

"With all due respect, Sir," Rebecca dares again, her voice shaking slightly, "Malik Ishtar has demonstrated that he has what it takes to withstand the neural load on his own. If you aren't satisfied with Mutou's performance, perhaps Ishtar could-"

"Perhaps I could stop listening to you and let your ineffective Data Analytics methods waste my resources. The traditional training program has yielded reliable enough candidates." Seto looks in Jounouchi and Mai's direction. She upholds his gaze in understated gratitude, while Jounouchi's face reads something like 'reliable? really? are you so pathetic you can't give your heroes proper acknowledgement?'

"Doctor Hawkins, how certain are you about the next Kaiju being a Category Six?"

"Anywhere between eighty-three and ninety-eight percent certainty, Sir."

"Well. Come back to me with more precise predictions."

"Sir, it's statistically impossible to-"

"You are-" he pauses to emphasize that her contributions to this conversation are no longer relevant "-to be dismissed from the Distance Pilot Recruitment Project. We've wasted enough resources and opportunities as it is."

Rebecca looks down. Her voice breaks when she murmurs: "Permission to be dismissed, Sir."

Jounouchi and Mai's eyes are on her as she walks out the room, hoping that she looks back at them so they can express their sympathy with body language. But she simply closes the door behind her in silence. Ryou's eyes remain perfectly fixed on an invisible point above Kaiba's head.

"Mutou is dismissed. We'll find a good use for him since he's already on site. Malik is to stay put. We'll summon the Paradox Brothers from the South Domino base camp."

"You're going to have Yuugi scrub the Kaiju shit off the Jaeger's aren't you? You gotta give him another chance. Maybe he's got something really amazing that we can't afford not to use, maybe we just gotta think outside the box!"

"This conversation is over."

Jounouchi just barrels on: "If Becky says he's a perfect match… I mean, when you're in the heat of the action, it really takes more than skill, it takes intuition."

"The same kind of intuition that wrecked the Harpy Lady?"

"What's wrong with you?" Jounouchi explodes. "Since when do you care more about a pile of metal, than about our duty? About life? And you-" he points at Kaiba- "have all those years pushing paper turned your brain into mush? You could be dealing with this situation so much better!"

"Do not let my calm demeanor fool you, Ranger!"

Even seated at his desk, Seto Kaiba's anger irradiates through the whole room. Jounouchi and Mai feel shivers prickling at the base of their neck. Ryou, however, appears unfazed as usual.

"Let me make myself clear. I did not hand pick you for your intellect or for your life 'wisdom'. All I need you is your compliance and your fighting skills. And if I can't get that then you can go back to the wall that I found you crawling on. Do I make myself clear?"

Jounouchi's head drops. His fists are balled; he wills them to let go of their anger. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Kujaku, you can take your dog to his quarters. It appears he doesn't yet know his place here."

If Jounouchi doesn't jump at Kaiba's throat, it's not out of obedience for his superior or out of respect for Seto Kaiba, the man, for the man is beyond hopeless. If Jounouchi complies and takes his leave without a word, it's out of respect for Seto Kaiba, the former pilot.

.

"I can't believe I let him treat me like that," Jounouchi fumes between mouthfuls of the orange paste called 'squash'.

"He still lets you drive, doesn't he? Isn't that what matters, in the end?" Mai is a little more sympathetic.

"It wouldn't hurt to get a little bit of credit," he mutters, rolling the tension out of a stiff shoulder.

"Now you're just being childish. When do you see me begging for honours? Or Ryou?"

All eyes at the table shift to Ryou, the sole knife user of the group, sitting prim and proper.

"There are no honours to be had," he says simply, his voice meek and low, after ceremoniously wiping the corners of his mouth.

"I'm stuck fighting with the most and least modest pilots on this base," Mai sighs.

"And I, with the hottest," Jounouchi smirks. "Ow!" He reaches below the table for his poor knee. "Aim for the good knee, next time. Gee, Mai, show some sympathy."

Mai lets a perfectly clean fork slide from between her lips. "If I had struck your bad knee you'd be screaming in pain," she says smugly, although not quite able to suppress something soft and sad from her eyes.

"Your knee is hurt? Are you alright, Jounouchi?" It's Yuugi, standing at the end of their table, fresh from the buffet line with the driest, most overcooked batches of starch and protein on his tray.

"Nah, it's just an old wound." Jounouchi makes room between himself and Tristan. "Wanna come sit?"

"Sure!" Yuugi's eyes light up. Somewhat. "The food isn't bad. Compared to what we had in school, at least." Jounouchi, Mai and Tristan exchange knowing glances. Even Ryou's seemingly blank staring at his protein patty exudes meaning.

"Yuugi-kun," Mai begins, "you don't have to pretend-"

"It's okay to feel down after the Drift-" Jounouchi begins at the same time.

Mai and Jounouchi stare each other down from across the table.

"Do you really have to assume-"

"Give the boy some space-"

"Maybe we could listen to what Yuugi-kun has to say," Ryou cuts in at the most opportune moment, leaving his colleagues stunned.

"Right."

"Yeah. Okay."

Yuugi blushes from the unwanted attention. "Oh, I don't really have anything to contribute… I guess you know it all already… How it is…" He puts down his fork and knife and lets his shoulders slump. "To be inside someone's head… There's nothing I could share that you don't know already."

Tristan and Jounouchi each pat Yuugi's balled fists, pressing intently on his thighs.

"Everybody's different. Everybody brings their own bagage into the drift..." Jounouchi and Mai's eyes meet briefly.

"How was it, Yuugi-kun? To be inside Malik Ishtar's head." The rest of the table doesn't know whether they are relieved or quizzical over Ryou verbalizing an information need that isn't purely professional. "Where is that antisocial kid, anyway?"

Yuugi glances around, jumping on the second question because there is no way he can answer the first one. "Oh, he and his brother are waiting in line at the food station. I- I have to go," Yuugi decides.

"What? Come on, you haven't eaten half your hash browns."

"You can have them." Yuugi grabs his badge and rushes over to where Malik, and the man he knows with pure certainty to be Rishid, are standing.

In his hurry, he doesn't notice the intense gaze that Ryou lays on him.

.

The reunion is slightly anti-climatic. Rishid spares a cursory glance in Yuugi's direction, before resuming his stoical, perpetual scanning of their surroundings.

"Oh, it's you." Malik sounds annoyed, and it's not because of the unappetizing chunks of food being dropped into his tray.

"How-" The words die in Yuugi's throat. How are you holding up? It took Yuugi half a day to recover from the emotional blow. Maybe he'd appear as nonchalant as Malik does, if he too had a brother - even an adoptive brother - with him at the base to support him.

"You're right, Yuugi-kun. We'd better be discrete. Let's go to a more tranquil place." He takes off, leaving his tray behind.

"I can help you," Yuugi timidly tells Rishid. "I can carry his tray," he explains when Rishid does not react.

Rishid raises an eyebrow. Then, unexpectedly, pats Yuugi's head before grabbing both trays and walking towards Malik. Yuugi tags along, staring at the cloak covering Rishid's back, and wondering if there really are any scars under there.

Somehow, Yuugi knows what he saw in the Drift is real.

.

For someone who was eager to speak in confidence, Malik doesn't have much to say. He taps at his tray, pushing and moving the different foods with his fork until they grow cold and stiff, glancing up at Yuugi from time to time. Rishid's silence seems to be just part of who he is.

Yuugi only looks at the dark, dimly lit silhouette of the Jaegers from the empty mechanic mezzanine they are perched on. He is surprised at how well his usual fear of heights seems to have dissipated.

"Why do you want to fight Kaiju?" Malik asks abruptly.

"I don't want to fight Kaiju." Yuugi blurts out. It's true; the thought of emulating his violent bullies makes him sick. "But you know that already. I mean, you've been inside my head."

Malik makes a sour face, then pushes his tray away. When he looks at Yuugi again his features are threatening.

"You win," Malik hisses.

"What?"

"You win!" Malik yells, exasperated. "You can stop hiding, now."

Yuugi's eyes widen in confusion. "What? Hiding where?"

Malik leans forward and grabs Yuugi's arm. The shift in weight causes the platform to shake a little. Yuugi's heart skips a beat. Malik's eyes, he can now appreciate, are sunken and bloodshot, a myriad of red rivers encroaching the whites. There is a faint tremor in his lips, and little white discs - peeling skin - dot his forehead where the Drift electrodes are usually located. Malik's grip tightens, causing Yuugi to wince in pain.

"Mehlik," Rishid cuts in. The rest is a string of urgent sounding words in Arabic.

Malik releases Yuugi and sits back, albeit reluctantly.

"You have no idea, do you."

Yuugi swallows hard. They are alone, and even though he's been inside Malik's head he cannot guess his intentions.

"I don't know anything about you because I wasn't inside your mind. I couldn't get in, because you blocked me. You blocked me out! Nobody blocks me out!" His anger resonates in the empty Jaeger room. Rishid murmurs something in Arabic. Malik shakes his head. Then out of the blue, he grabs the Puzzle and jerks on the chain, causing Yuugi's lithe body to jolt forward.

"He choose you, didn't he?" His face turns into a desperate snarl. He brings the Puzzle to his forehead, cradling it. "You chose him, didn't you?" Malik whispers, as if he was speaking to the inanimate object.

Yuugi's eyes are stinging and leaking. There's no predicting what Malik will do next. Malik tightens his hold on the chain.

"I don't understand," Yuugi pleads. "I can't help you if you don't explain to me." He swallows. "I felt your pain," he ventures. "In the Drift. I was there…"

Rishid murmurs soothing words in Arabic, and Malik lets go of Yuugi, visibly stricken. He leans against Rishid's chest, burying his face into his brother. Yuugi never noticed just how thin and sickly Malik is - skin on bones. Rishid scoops him up as if a handful of feathers.

"Be careful," Rishid warns Yuugi.

And then, before Yuugi can ask for explanations, the Ishtars are gone.

.

Yuugi doesn't know how to feel about his brief stint as a Jaeger pilot. One the one hand, even if Yuugi had been retained as a pilot, no amount of training could turn him into a warrior of the likes of Mai, or Jounouchi. On the other, it would have been a chance to work for a noble cause, to help make the world a better place.

It's silly, how much effort he put into assembling it. All the sweat and missed shuteye hours he invested in those inanimate gold pieces. Make a wish, his grandfather had said.

He had wished for a chance to save the world.

In retrospect, he should have wished for something more attainable. A friend, maybe. Just one more friend - one that he wouldn't stupidly fall in love with.

The Drift hasn't quite been what Tristan said it would be. He and Malik haven't quite fusioned together. Malik seemed to have said that he hasn't been able to access Yuugi's mind. And Yuugi only saw fractions of Malik's past. The pain he experienced was searing, nonetheless. What if there was more? What if that Malik's childhood had been a succession of trials, treason and torture?

What if something tried to protect me from the Drift? Is that what makes me so special?

It doesn't matter. Yuugi decides. If he can't drift properly, he can't pilot a Jaeger. And if he can't pilot a Jaeger, then he's useless, because there is literally nothing he can contribute to the fight against the Kaiju. I am not needed.

Yuugi lies on his back and lets his gaze drown in the pitch black ceiling. Soon, put at east by the certainty that no one will come for him here, he dozes into sleep.

.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_

.

AN: Pacific Rim AU. A friend suggested it, and immediately loved the idea; the parallels are plentiful and I felt like venturing away from angst and drama. Unfortunately, I didn't make it to the end in time for the contest; I'd rather settle for the first half of the story now, rather than write a rushed ending. You can have fun guessing how Rishid and Yami no Yuugi will interact with one another. There will be one more installment to this story.


End file.
